Merits of Marriage
by darknessfollows
Summary: Because Ohtori Kyouya and Fujioka Haruhi can't possibly have a normal happily ever after. One shots from their engagement and marriage following no particular order.
1. Proposition

Her breath came in short pants, her cheeks glowing with the heat of her heart as she leaned against the rough bark of the tree. Droplets of rain sank through the leaves and splashed against her already soaked body and hair, but she seemed not to notice them. She gazed into the distance, chewing her bottom lips nervously.

"Haruhi, a simple 'no' will suffice," said a calm voice from behind her.

Haruhi blinked and turned with surprise. "Kyouya-sempai?" she said. "Why are you here?"

"I followed you."

"That much is obvious," she muttered. "I mean why did you follow me?"

"There are chances of thunder," he replied. "If such is the case and you are lost out here, I will never hear the end of it from that idiot."

Haruhi felt a shiver possess her at the mention of Tamaki. "Why didn't he come after me himself?" she asked indignantly.

"I am not in the habit of trying to understand his motives," Kyouya said with a shrug, "but I believe it may have something to do with 'rejection'. When you propose to a girl and she runs away, it doesn't bode well for your chances of success."

"How can you be sarcastic about something like this?" Haruhi asked angrily, bristling. She slumped to the ground at the base of the tree, soaking her clothes with mud.

"It is, in some ways, rather amusing," Kyouya confessed, smirking slightly. "Not because Tamaki will be hurt when you reject him-"

"Who said I was going to reject him?" she snapped.

Kyouya ignored her and continued, "but because you spent so many years oblivious to his growing affection and desire. This _really_ came to you as a shock? How can one so perceptive be so ignorant? Why don't I tell you now that Hikaru is equally as infatuated with you so that it will not be such a surprise when _he_ proposes. Maybe then you'll actually be able to give him an answer."

"Hi-Hikaru?" she whispered.

"Yes, of course," Kyouya said matter-of-factly.

Haruhi looked frustrated. "Why would they...?" she trailed off, glaring at the soggy grass all around her.

"Why?" Kyouya repeated. "I suppose for the same reason I will ask you next Friday on our date."

Her eyes grew wide. "Kyouya, _you_ were planning to propose?"

"Well, why not?" he asked, shrugging. "We've been dating for well over a year."

"That's not a good reason to get married," Haruhi huffed.

"I agree. I had only ever planned to marry for one of two things; status or love. As you obviously do not fall under the first category, I am forced to admit that I believe myself to be in love with you."

"You could say it with a little feeling," she complained.

He knelt beside her and took her hand. "My darling Haruhi, light of my world, brightest star in the sky..."

"Knock it off!" she growled, snatching her hand away.

Kyouya, deeming that he was already wet, sat beside her in the mud. "Am I being rejected?" he asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Baka... I _should_ reject you!"

"But you won't."

"Do you have to sound so confident?"

"Why should I not be?" he asked. "You have made it quite clear that you find me attractive and worthy of your time and I believe I have transmitted similar feelings. I have spoken to you about my father's interest in our union."

"I could still reject you," she said firmly.

"Then do so," he dared.

"Perhaps I'll just run away again," she replied, jumping to her feet. A split second later Kyouya was also standing and had her pinned to the tree.

"I'm afraid I can't allow that," he said in a low voice. "Tamaki may be willing to let you go, but I am not. I will not take no for an answer."

There was a pause in which they heard nothing but the rain falling all around them. They stared into each other's eyes, their damp bodies pressed together, water running down their skin. Their breath caught and mingled in the spring air as they maintained their distance.

"And what will you do if I refuse you?" she had the nerve to say.

He lifted a hand to her cheek, a soft, rare smile on his face, and said, "I'll propose again, and again, and again until there's not an ounce of dignity in my body."

She returned the smile. "That won't be necessary."

And as he lowered his face to hers, his left hand was reaching into his pocket, where a little black box had been waiting, a little black box that held all the promise of their future.

Haruhi gasped when she felt the cool metal slipping onto her finger and pulled away, frowning. "I thought you were planning to wait until Friday," she said. "Why did you have the ring with you?"

Kyouya smirked. "Opportunities exist to be used; it would have been a crime to bypass one as perfect as this, though not even I could have planned such an elaborate scheme, so you can drop that accusatory tone. I merely... took advantage of an interesting scenario."

Haruhi sighed. "You will forever be the shadow king, won't you?"

He let out a laugh-like breath. "Does that bother you?"

She shook her head as their lips met.


	2. Marriage: Wedding Watch

Haruhi had never slept with a man before, but she had always had her theories about what should or shouldn't happen. Likewise, she had certain expectations for her wedding night that were so far not being met. But then, Kyouya Ohtori was not a normal man in any sense of the word, and business came before pleasure. She could respect, and appreciate, that viewpoint, but this was their wedding night!

It was 2:30 in the morning, and Kyouya sat at the desk typing away on his keyboard as though nothing in the world was more interesting. Haruhi had to admit that she found it somewhat discouraging. She sat kneeling on the bed, her brow furrowed, watching him, as she had been for nearly two hours.

Gritting her teeth, she pushed herself off the mattress and stormed up to him, slamming his laptop shut, almost clipping his fingers. The look he gave her could have frozen hell, but her glare was similarly frightening. They squared off, each eying the other in silence.

At last, Kyouya inquired, "Why did you do that?" His tone was calm, and yet rich with venom and promise of punishment.

Haruhi folded her arms. "Kyouya, we were just married this morning. You made us leave the reception early and then you ignored me for the rest of the night! What kind of wedding is this? I thought you _wanted_ to get married!"

Kyouya looked slightly taken aback. "Of course I wanted to marry you. I wouldn't have asked otherwise."

"Then why are you ignoring me?" she asked acidly. "You tried to get me into bed _before_ we were married, but now that we are, you're not interested?"

"Who said I wasn't interested?"

Haruhi groaned in frustration. "You could act at least a _little_ excited."

"I am," he said, smiling one of those horribly fake smiles.

Haruhi sighed. "Never mind, Kyouya. I'll just go to bed."

"So early?" he asked in surprise.

Haruhi stared blankly. "It's 2:30," she whispered.

Kyouya frowned and glanced at his watch. "No, it's not," he said firmly.

Haruhi grabbed his wrist and jerked it up to her face. "Your watch is wrong," she said. "But even so, how could you think it was _9:30_ instead of _2:30_? Don't you have any sort of biological clock? Thank God Tamaki was with you, or you may not have shown up in time for the wedding. Baka."

Kyouya was still frowning at his watch. "I set it this morning," he murmured. "How could it be wrong?"

"Did you leave it anywhere near the twins?" she suggested.

Kyouya gave her a look. Sighing, he undid the clasp and slipped the watch off his wrist, setting it down on the desk. He rose from the chair and put his hands on her shoulders. "I owe you an apology, Haruhi."

"You owe me more than that," she muttered, folding her arms angrily.

A familiar smirk settled onto his face as he leaned towards her, one of his hands shifting into her hair, the other slipping down to her waist. She raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?" she asked flatly.

He tugged her a little closer. "Wasn't this what you wanted?" he asked slyly. The hand on her waist was inching dangerously low so that his fingertips had slipped into the rim of her pajama bottoms.

"No," she replied matter-of-factly. "I wanted to be more interesting than your computer for at _least_ our wedding day. If you can't even think of me today, then what does that suggest for our future?"

"I was thinking of you," he replied as though she should have known as much. "You were hard to ignore since you sighed every five minutes."

"Kyouya, _trying _to ignore me is as bad as actually doing it," she said, resisting the urge to smack her forehead. She pulled herself away from him, trying to tame that feeling of rejection that was sinking into her gut. "It doesn't matter. You can go back to work if you want."

"You're angry," he stated.

"No, I'm not," she told him truthfully. "I just didn't expect to regret marrying you so quickly."

He made a movement as if to grab her, but then refrained from progressing further. Slowly his hand dropped to his side. "Haruhi..." he said quietly, in a voice far meeker than any she had ever heard come from him. "I am not used to begging, but understand that I _cannot_ let you leave me so easily."

"I'm sure you'll barely notice the difference," she said bitterly. "You can take your laptop to bed with you, snuggle it, tell it how much you love it..."

"Haruhi, are you jealous of my computer?"

"I thought I had made that clear," she said pointedly. "On a wedding day, the groom should see only his bride."

"I see only you on a daily basis," he replied. "I had to learn to control those urges which arise from thinking of you or else I would never get anything done."

The way he said it was simple and orderly, like he was answering a question about the weather, yet the effect it had on Haruhi was alarming. It was no passionate confession, but it _was_ a statement of his love for her. Relief swept through her as she closed the distance between them and hugged him fiercely about the waist.

Kyouya's hands hung in the air as his eyes stared down at her with nothing short of alarm. "Haruhi, what did I...?" he began, but she cut him off by putting her hand over his mouth.

"Baka!" she growled. "I never though I'd say this, but Ohtori Kyouya, you have too much self-control! I'm your wife, not your co-worker! You're _supposed_ to give into your desires, particularly on our wedding night."

"I always planned to," he assured her. "I lost track of the hour..."

She let out a noise of disapproval as she grabbed a hold of his tie and jerked him forward. "Kyouya, let's get something straight. On the wedding night, _I_ come first."

"You always come first," he breathed, drifting towards her.

Haruhi gave the tie another jerk, preventing him from getting too close to her face. "When you ignore me, it makes me think you don't want me," she said.

"Is that why you're angry? Because you think I don't want you?"

"Why are you laughing? It's not funny."

"On the contrary, my dear Haruhi, it is _very _funny."

"No, it's not."

Kyouya closed his hand on her wrist, making her release him. "Yes, Haruhi, it is," he said firmly. "You, who can see through every facade I build, cannot see that you are the single most important thing in my life?"

Her breath hitched. "More important than becoming heir to the Ohotori fortune?" she asked.

"Significantly," he replied.

Haruhi smiled in a way that only she could. Kyouya leaned down to kiss her, but her eyes narrowed abruptly. She quickly stepped out of his embrace.

"There's still the matter of your punishment," she said.

"Punishment?"

"For ignoring me. Tonight, you can sleep on the couch."

"What?" His voice was deathly calm.

"I said, you will sleep on the couch. Make love to your computer for all I care, but you won't get anything from me."

xXx

Haruhi and Kyouya learned something very important that night.

Kyouya learned never to ignore Haruhi.

Haruhi learned that Kyouya does not take no for an answer. He did _not_ sleep on the couch, but in his own bed with his wife curled contentedly in his arms.

And somewhere, someplace, a watch-maker was fleeing the country.


	3. Marriage: Waking Kyouya

Scant rays of sunlight drifted slowly passed the shades, dancing in the dust of the air and spreading across the bed. Haruhi watched them grow with envy, because they (unlike she) were actually allowed to move. The grew across the silken sheets, up the curve of her body and into the shadows of the creased blanket at an agonizing rate.

Silently, she willed them to move faster, yet the more she dwelled on them, the slower they seemed to move. Time crawled, but she dared not stir for fear of the iron grip around her waist and shoulders.

She had always known that Kyouya was not a morning person and had gone into their marriage fully expecting him to be a grouch in the early hours. Of course, she had generally attributed this to his being rich and spoiled and able to sleep as late as he chose. She had also been confident that once they were married, she would break him of this habit, or at least curve it.

She had been very, very wrong.

Mornings had become a pattern. Wake with the sun, lie perfectly still for two hours, and then force him to wake up. Even at nine o'clock, his temper was still fierce, but it _was_ manageable. Before nine o'clock, there was no hope. He would quite simply bite her head off and then roll over, dragging her with him in a vice grip.

Haruhi was not sure if she found the situation frightening or bothersome. A part of her felt angry that he insisted on her laying in the bed with him; just because _he_ wanted to sleep didn't mean she did. But, she had to admit, it was charming in it's own way, and the possessiveness made her feel wanted. Certainly 'warm in his arms' was a pleasant place to be, so she could only object so much.

Yet after a week, the novelty had worn off, and it was nothing short of boring. She was sure it was only about seven-thirty and already she was drumming her fingers on the mattress.

She shifted slightly and Kyouya grunted, his arms tightening slightly. Haruhi sighed and cautiously raised a hand to his hair, brushing the messy bangs from his forehead. He made another noise and forced her face against his bare chest.

Haruhi hissed in annoyance.

"Kyouya," she said quietly.

He tossed a bit but did not respond.

"Kyouya," she said again.

"Haruhi, shut up," he grumbled into her hair.

"I want to get up," she complained.

"Ha-ru-hi!" he said angrily. "Go back to sleep!"

"Kyouya!"

He suddenly went very still and an unnaturally sinister aura began to emit from his body. The onyx eyes flashed like steel, sending the tiny brunette into shivers.

"K-Kyouya...?" she whimpered, trying to push herself away from him.

"_I said go back to sleep,_" he hissed. His voice was like poison as it struck her, stealing her breath in a swift movement. Haruhi gritted her teeth resolutely and fixed a glare onto her face.

"No, Kyouya. I want to get up."

Kyouya dragged her closer to him in fingers that hurt, eyes shut once again. Haruhi squirmed and struggled in vain as he crushed her against him, gasping for air.

"K-Ky...ouya," she spluttered. "W-wake up! I can't breath!"

When he did not respond, she decided that she would have to make him relax to regain her freedom. Since her movements were so limited, she began pressing soft kisses to his neck and chest. Something akin to a purr rumbled deep in his throat and the arms loosened slightly, though not nearly enough to break free.

Haruhi shifted upwards and kissed his lips instead, tracing his bare chest with her fingers. She suddenly felt him responding, his mouth moving on hers, his hands exploring her body. He growled and flipped her backwards, looming above her with his eyes half-open but unmistakably awake. She shivered as he began to kiss her throat. That _wasn't_ what she had wanted.

"Kyouya, can I get up now?" she asked, trying to escape his heavy (and somewhat comfortable) weight.

He blinked at her. "Of course not."

"Wha...?"

"By my calculations, Haruhi, you have stolen from me at least two hours of sleep that I will never get back. I at least plan to spend those two hours doing something pleasant."

"But we... last night..." she said weakly. And then she blanched and whispered, "_Two hours_?"

Kyouya, despite being cranky, could not help smirking at the look on her face. "That is the punishment for waking me up early," he said with a note of finality that dared her to question him.

Haruhi eyed him warily, her mind reeling through possible ways to escape this situation. His smirk deepened as he watched her struggle. He knew it was pointless. He had made up his mind; she should just accept it.

He slowly lowered his face to her ear and began to nibble on the lobe.

xXx

Haruhi, in the days to come, found it difficult to entirely abandon her desire to wake early in the mornings, but for the most part did not dare to force Kyouya into consciousness. Sometimes she would wake him at 8:30 and allow him to compensate for his sleep with her body, mostly because it was more interesting than laying there, but she found the best solution was merely to stay up late, just as he did. She also couldn't help feeling that she was doing more to make their relationship work than he was.


	4. Engagement: Stalkers

"We're being followed."

Haruhi blinked but knew better than to look over her shoulder.

"Followed?" she repeated in a low voice.

Kyouya nodded once. "Can you guess who?"

Her eyes widened as her mouth set into a grim line. "Rich bastards..." she hissed. "Why would they follow us?"

"I believe it may have something to do with doubts about my motives," Kyouya said thoughtfully. "Perhaps they don't trust me with your virtue."

Haruhi laughed dryly. "They shouldn't," she pointed out. "If I had a dollar for every pass you've made-"

"You'd have seventeen dollars," he said, placing an arm across her shoulders.

"Only seventeen?" she said in surprise. "It felt like more."

"Well, I'm sure the numbers will increase in the future."

"It won't change my mind, you know," she said indignantly.

"Haruhi, you should know by now that I love a challenge," he said, smiling cruelly.

"Well, I have a perfect challenge for you," she muttered. "Make _them_ disappear." She jerked her head slightly backwards to indicate the small cluster of not-so-discreet young men. At the head was a tall, attractive blond dressed all in black with "disguising" sunglasses, muttering instructions to the others in an over-sized walkie-talkie.

Kyouya's smirk grew. "I can think of a way, but you'll have to play along."

xXx

"Hey, tono!" Hikaru and Kaoru whined in unison.

"What is it, you demon twins," Tamaki sighed angrily. "Can't you see I'm trying to watch over my darling daughter Haruhi?"

"You're not doing a very good job," Hikaru muttered.

Kaoru put in, "They just went down that alleyway."

Tamaki perked up with an expression of horror on his face. "Nooo! Father will not allow it!" he wailed, pounding across the pavement with unnatural speed, stirring up dust and drawing the attention of any passersby. The twins shrugged as one and took off after him while Mori walked steadily behind them, the tiny Hunny perched merrily on his shoulders squealing something about an ice cream vendor he had just seen.

xXx

Haruhi poked the seemingly lifeless body of Tamaki before glancing at Kyouya. "I didn't expect them to faint," she said.

"Yes, perhaps that was unexpected," he agreed, rolling one of the twins over with his foot, "but not entirely unpleasant."

"Um, Kyouya... about this..." Haruhi said, looking to him for assistance.

"Not to worry, Haruhi, I'll just make a few phone calls. Then perhaps we can continue-"

"Eighteen and not a chance," she said, quickly straightening and then stalking off in search of an ice cream vendor she had seen a little while ago.


	5. Marriage: Above All Else

For a reason that no one could quite explain (or dared to for that matter) attending a meeting led by Ohtori Kyouya was more ominous than death row.

The air was tense and quiet; those involved sat on the edges of their seats and listened intently to the stream of sophisticated words flowing from his lips, attempting to comprehend perhaps a third of what he was saying. No one interrupted. No one asked questions. It was simply the heavy sound of his low voice detailing the finer points of every brilliant business scheme he devised and then sharing what he called a 'simplified' version with them.

Today was like any other day. The meeting began at exactly 5:30, and Kyouya stood at the front of the room with a power point glimmering behind him. He used no papers or note cards to prompt himself and never glanced backwards at the slides behind him; it was as though he knew the material word for word, into the very depths of his soul. The men and women before him hardly dared to blink even for a second, because Ohtori Kyouya _never_ repeats himself. Things carried on in this manner for approximately fifteen minutes.

And then, something very unexpected happened.

The door opened.

In stepped a tentative secretary whom Kyouya fixed with a look like steel and fire. The others in the room swallowed as one, awaiting the explosion.

"What is it?" he asked in an unnaturally calm, poisonous voice.

"Forgive me, Ohtori-sama," the secretary said quickly, "But you told me to tell you-"

"I am aware of every word I have spoken to you. Now _what is it_?"

"T-t-thunder," she squeaked. "Just now."

Everyone looked back to Kyouya for his reaction, wondering if the secretary would be fired. But Kyouya only shut off the projection screen and said, "This meeting has been rescheduled. Chiyoko-san will forward you the times promptly."

And with that, he left the room briskly, his eyes still as hard as stone, leaving the occupants of the room to whisper amongst themselves about the unusual behavior of their boss.

His secretary, Chiyoko Machi, smiled slightly.


	6. Engagement: Privileged Few

"Haruhi!" Riko called from the cubicle next to her, poking her scruffy brown head over the low wall.

"Hai?" Haruhi asked, tearing her eyes away from the computer screen.

"I'm going to take a lunch break in about ten minutes. Want to come?"

Haruhi nodded, smiling, and began to wrap up what she was doing. As much as she hated to admit the differences between girls and boys, it was pleasant to have a female friend for a change. The two had hit it off instantly on Haruhi's first day, both being headstrong, determined girls who refused to back down to anyone.

Haruhi hastily tried to finish filing her case reports (not wanting to keep Riko waiting), but found herself distracted by a commotion towards the far end of the floor. Quite suddenly, Riko was at her side, ducking down low so as not to be seen.

"Haruhi," she hissed. "You'll never guess who's here!"

_Please don't be blond, please don't be blond..._

"Who?" Haruhi asked, feigning disinterest.

"Well, you never watch TV so you may not have heard of him. Come here and I'll show you."

Uneasily, Haruhi crept to the edge of the cubicle and peered over it, Riko just beside her. The new-comer was not blond, but that didn't stop Haruhi's stomach from twisting into knots.

"He's looking this way," Riko gasped, leaping below the edge of visibility. Haruhi was not as quick, and suddenly their eyes met.

"Damn..." she muttered to herself, sitting down in the chair.

"Don't you know who that was?" Riko asked. "That was Ohtori Kyouya! He's one of Japan's richest, and definitely the most dangerous. He was on the news the other day announcing his engagement to some no-name lawyer- oh! Do you think she works here?"

"Hello, Haruhi."

Haruhi's entire body was numb as she rotated to face the extremely good-looking young man. Riko seemed to have been turned to stone.

"Konnichiwa, Ohtori-sama," Haruhi managed to reply.

Kyouya raised an eyebrow at the formal greeting. "Who is your friend?" he asked conversationally.

"Yuiki Riko," Haruhi replied.

Kyouya gave a curt nod to the girl, who seemed to slowly be regaining feeling in her legs. He then turned to Haruhi and said, "Did you know that all employees fill out a list of approved visitors and family members to be let in by security?"

"Hai."

"Yes, well strangely enough, the only person on _your_ list was your father."

_Busted!_

"Should I have included someone else?" she asked innocently.

"Perhaps. Unless you really didn't want visitors."

"I don't. This is work, not playtime. I don't need distractions."

"Yes, I can understand that. It certainly is a relief that I haven't accidentally let slip your work address to Tamaki or the twins."

Her eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't dare!" she accused.

"Of course not," he said coolly. "Provided that you have me added to that list."

"But Kyouya...!"

"Well, Haruhi, see to it that you straighten out the misunderstanding. I'll pick you up at seven."

He turned and walked away, drawing stares from everyone he passed.

"Are you going to do it?" asked a quiet voice.

Haruhi turned to see Riko regarding her with a mixture of admiration and shock. Haruhi smiled slightly. "There are certain things you do and don't do in this world," she said cheerfully. "One of them is stand against Ohtori Kyouya. He sounded serious about giving Tamaki my address..."

"Tamaki?" Riko questioned.

"Trust me, you don't want to know."


	7. Date: Always Business

"Haruhi, would you like to go out with me?"

"Sorry?" she said, headed tilted to one side in confusion.

Kyouya's expression remained unchanged. "I asked you if you wanted to go out with me."

"Out where?" she wondered.

"Dinner perhaps, and whatever else interests you."

"Why?" she had to ask.

Kyouya sighed and leaned across the table, resting his chin on his neatly folded hands. "Because that's what boys and girls do, Haruhi. When a boy finds himself attracted to a girl, he asks her to date him."

Haruhi blinked at him. They were sitting in one of the Ouran libraries at a quiet table in the back. Haruhi had been hard at work on calculus while Kyouya had been pecking away at his keyboard, ignoring her up until just a moment ago.

"Ano... when you say "date" do you mean as friends?"

"No, Haruhi, not as friends."

"Then... a _real_ date? As boy and girl?"

"Of course."

Haruhi frowned at him, setting her pencil down and leaning back in her chair. "But Kyouya-sempai, what would be the merits in that?"

"Merits? What are the merits to any relationship? I am simply... interested."

Haruhi pondered the information for a moment. "I suppose... I am interested as well. I would like the opportunity to get to know Kyouya-sempai better."

A slight smile altered his features. "Very well. Would this Saturday at seven be acceptable to you?"

She nodded and then picked up her pencil and went back to work. Kyouya watched her for a few minutes, his insides (which had been on fire a moment ago) slowly relaxing and allowing him some peace of mind. He couldn't help feeling that their conversation had been more like a work proposal than a request for a date.

Simultaneously, he thanked the gods that Haruhi was not a normal girl.


	8. Marriage: Control

The elevator dinged, and Haruhi stepped out, her expression formal and business-like, her body tense.

"Ah, Haruhi-san!" called a surprised voice.

"Konnichiwa, Machi-san," Haruhi replied, smiling slightly.

"Would you like for me to tell Ohtori-sama that you are here?"

"No need," Haruhi insisted. "I'll just head in. He's not in a meeting, is he?"

"No, he should be free right now," Machi assured. "At least as free as Ohtori-sama ever is."

"Arigatou, Machi-san," Haruhi said, walking towards the large pair of oak doors. She opened them without knocking and stepped inside, shutting the door just behind her.

"Haruhi," Kyouya said, and he did not look surprised to see her, despite that she rarely came to visit him at work. He sat at the far end of the massive, well-furnished office, his fingers still resting on the keyboard, watching her.

Haruhi crossed the room and sat on the edge of his desk, looking down at him.

"Kyouya, has it ever occurred to you that it's _wrong_ to blackmail your wife?" she asked evenly.

He blinked at her as though she was from another planet.

"Where are my reports, Kyouya?" she inquired.

"What reports?" he asked innocently, leaning back in his chair.

Haruhi's eyes narrowed. "Kyouya, I don't have time for this. I have to get back to work."

"No, you don't. I consulted your schedule; you have no cases today and no meetings either."

"I could still be filing case reports."

"You'll have plenty of time for that later."

"I would rather do it now."

"Did you read my note?"

"...yes," she answered, stiffening. "But it doesn't mean anything! You can't blackmail me!"

"Do you want your papers back or not?"

"Bastard..." she muttered.

He just smirked, pulling her off of the desk and into his lap. His fingers traced the buttons of her shirt as he said into her ear, "A change of pace is refreshing once in a while, wouldn't you agree?"

"Machi will hear," she murmured.

"These walls are sound-proofed," he replied. "So you are welcome here anytime."

"You mean anytime you blackmail me."

"Precisely."

xXx

Haruhi emerged half-an-hour later looking ruffled, but triumphant. She had her case reports in one hand, and her brief case in the other. Machi took in her shabby appearance and smiled suggestively.

"I take it Ohtori-sama is well?" Machi asked.

Haruhi laughed dryly. "Oh, he's perfectly fine." She saw a mug of steaming coffee on Machi's desk. "Is that for Kyouya?" she asked.

"Hai," Machi answered. "I was just going to take it into him, but I didn't want to interrupt..."

"Do you keep any sugar here?"

Machi nodded and reached into a cabinet behind her desk. Haruhi took the sugar from her and poured a liberal amount of it into the coffee.

"Perfect," she said, handing the sugar back. "Be sure to blame me."

"Um..." Machi said, eyes widening. "Alright."

"Well, it was nice to see you again!" Haruhi said cheerfully, and summoned the elevator once again.


	9. Marriage: Leverage

Haruhi stepped into the massive kitchen and a wave of hot, steamy aromas invaded her senses.

"Ohtori-san!" the head chef said cheerfully, coming over to her and bowing respectfully. "It is a pleasure to serve you at last!"

"Konnichiwa," Haruhi greeted, bowing in reply. "Kyouya says you are some of the best chefs in the country."

"The master is all politeness," the head chef, replied, looking doubtful that any such complimentary words had _ever_ come out of someone like Ohtori Kyouya.

Haruhi laughed. "Well, I won't know the difference. Everything smells delicious!"

"Thank you, Ohtori-san!" he beamed. "Though you should know that you need not come all the way down to the kitchens when you are hungry. Simply use the intercoms to page us!"

Haruhi smiled. "I wanted to see the kitchens," she confessed. "I've never been in one so big. Do you think I'd be allowed to cook down here sometimes?"

The head chef blinked. "You cook...?"

She nodded. "My father can barely make tea, let alone dinner."

She could see the chef thinking hard, his brow furrowed. "Ohtori-san, forgive me for asking," he said hesitantly, "but from what family are you?"

"Eh?" she said in surprise. "Don't you watch the news? I'm a lawyer. I'm not rich."

The chef's surprise only grew. "Then how did..." he began, and then paused, realizing he was probably about to say something offensive.

Haruhi opened her mouth to say something, but just then a plate of freshly prepared ootoro was passed right next to her. Her stomach rumbled.

"Ano..." she said uncertainly, eying the food.

"Ah, forgive me, Ohtori-san! Were you hungry?"

"Maybe... just a little..." she said quietly, her eyes following the food like a wolf watching a rabbit.

"Well, we can make you anything you like!" the chef said cheerfully.

"Ootoro?" she said a little too quickly.

The chef's mouth fell open. "Ah... you see, Ohtori-san... we were given specific orders never to give you ootoro..."

"What?!" Haruhi yelped, disappointment crashing down on her. "By who?"

"Ohtori-sama, of course."

Haruhi gaped. She _knew_ that Kyouya was a bastard, but _this_...! The one thing she had been looking forward to about being rich!

"Not to worry, Haruhi," his dark voice said.

She turned and saw him entering the kitchens, looking ridiculously triumphant. "Kyouya..." she whined, like a child deprived of it's favorite sweet.

"Now Haruhi," Kyouya said, smirking. "You'll get all the ootoro you want as long as you're a good girl. I need _some _leverage in this marriage."

"And what leverage do I have?" she huffed.

"More than enough," he replied vaguely. When she raised an eyebrow at him, he continued, "Let's just say you've stolen my heart-" he scooped up the plate of ootoro from the hands of a passing chef "-and now I have yours."

He turned and walked towards the exit, Haruhi hurrying just behind him, eyes still glued to the alluring plate in his hands.


	10. Marriage: Looking Back

When Haruhi and Kyouya started dating, they never really told anyone. It was not that it was a secret, or that they didn't wish for anyone to know, but simply because they didn't consider it to be anyone else's concern.

Personally, Haruhi didn't see this as a problem, but then, she hadn't expected the relationship to last as long as it did, or to end in something like _marriage_. She had been confident that it was all experimental, that Kyouya had asked her out because he liked her and that she had accepted simply because she liked him. A friendship taken to the next level, so to speak.

Kyouya had always known that Haruhi was thick when it came to things like relationships, and asked her out fully prepared to do what it took to make her see that he didn't just want to date her; he was in love with her. However, he underestimated her ability to be blunt and oblivious.

She wouldn't let him buy her anything, or take her to extravagant places, or arrange first class vacations for the two of them. She insisted that they only went out every other week so that their studies wouldn't slip. She let him hold her hand and kiss her occasionally, but that was the extent of their physical relationship.

Kyouya found it frustrating and enjoyable at the same time. It was a challenge, and challenges thrilled him. However, there were times when she was just so stubbornly stupid that he wanted to hit his head on the wall.

He would say, "I love you."

And she would suspiciously reply, "What do you want?"

He would say, "You're beautiful."

And she would shake her head, muttering, "baka..."

One time he even asked her to marry him and she burst into laughter and said, "You shouldn't joke about that sort of thing, Kyouya-sempai! What if someone takes you seriously?"

_If only, Haruhi,_ he remembered thinking.

As their relationship moved on, things began to settle down. He had a feeling that Haruhi finally began to develop an idea of his feelings for her. Every so often he would catch her staring at him as though he was the strangest man in the world, and when she saw he was looking, she would blush and look away.

It honestly came as a relief to him that she was slowly seeing him more as a man and less as a friend. He used every possible chance to heighten this image, touching her as only a man would, whispering romantic things in her ear when she least expected it. It only baffled her further. She accused him of being too much like Tamaki with pretty words and empty meanings, at which point he stated that Tamaki spoke his words to everyone, but his were only for her.

He had never really considered himself a romantic before he met Haruhi, but it seemed as though if he _wasn't_ the romantic one in the relationship, who would be? He found that it came fairly naturally as well, since he really _did_ think the world of her. He was intelligent enough to recognize (and come to terms with) the fact that he was completely infatuated.

The only disappointment was that his feelings far surpassed hers, though he was certain that such a thing would be remedied with time. The fact that she cared for him at all had always been a shock to him. Some ten years down the road he finally admitted such an insecurity to her.

She only laughed and said, "If it's any consolation, Kyouya, the second most surprising day in my life was when I realized that you loved me."

He took the bait and asked, "Really? And what was the first?"

In all honesty, she answered, "The day I realized I loved you, too."


	11. Engagement: Relatives

Call #1 (Kyouya-Yoshio)

"Ootori Yoshio desu ga."

"Otou-sama..."

"Ah, Kyouya. What do you want?"

"I've called to say that Haruhi Fujioka has just agreed to be my wife."

"I see. Bring her to the house sometime."

"I've made arrangements for Sunday."

"Very well."

The phone went dead.

Call #2 (Kyouya-Fuyumi)

"Moshi-Moshi."

"Fuyumi nee-san..."

"Kyou-chan!" his sister's voice boomed through the receiver. "I'm so glad to hear from you! You know you never call me!"

"..."

"Kyou-chan...? Are you still there?"

"Yes."

"Was there something in particular you wanted to say?"

"Yes. I'm engaged."

"ENGAGED! KYOUYA, WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME? I'M SO HAPPY! WHEN CAN I MEET HER?"

"It's Haruhi Fujioka."

"Haru-chan!"

"She hates that name."

"Oh, Kyou-chan, not everybody hates nicknames as much as you do."

"Haruhi does."

"Haruhi is the scholarship student you told me about, right?"

"That's correct."

"This is so sudden, Kyouya! Are you sure?"

"We've been dating for some time now."

"WHAT?! And you didn't tell me?"

"There was no need to."

"Ah, Kyouya, you're so mean! Well, take good care of her, Kyou-chan! When can I meet her?"

"She's coming over for dinner on Sunday..."

"Perfect!"

"Nii-san, don't get so excited..."

"Aw, Kyou-chan, aren't you happy to be getting married?"

"Hai."

"You don't sound excited."

"I am."

"Oh, Kyou-chan! Then I couldn't be happier!"

"Nii-san, I have to go now."

"Is Haru-chan with you?"

"She is. She looks forward to meeting you."

"Mata atode denwa shimasu?"

"Hai."

Kyouya sighed and shut his cell phone with a snap and thanked God that he only had one sister.


	12. Date: Magnetism

Kyouya jumped as something like electricity shot through his left hand. The source was obvious: the small brunette walking calmly at his side, letting her arms swing about like a child. Didn't she have any dignity? He quickly put an extra foot in between them.

Yet, two minutes later, as they walked along the sidewalk, the jolt hit him once again, this time as their shoulders bumped together. Kyouya scowled and increased their distance. Didn't she have any sense of direction? Why did she keep getting closer? He stared at her with agitation, trying to ignore the way his heart was hammering in his chest. Couldn't she see what she was doing to him?

Well, no, of course not. This was Haruhi after all.

He struggled to maintain the small space between them; however, Haruhi seemed to move on a diagonal, and despite his best efforts, before even thirty seconds passed, she brushed against his side once more, and his insides curled. He leaped away as though burnt.

"Kyouya-sempai?" she asked, blinking up at him with surprise. "Is something wrong?"

Forcing a smooth smile, he inquired, "Why would you ever say that, Haruhi?"

She paused and stared at him intently for a moment. Then she shrugged and turned her head towards the stretch of pavement before them, smiling slightly. "No reason," she said innocently.

Kyouya eyed her doubtfully for a short period of time before a loud honk brought him crashing back to reality. He wheeled around and found himself face to face with the bumper of a massive eighteen-wheeler, the driver of whom looked very annoyed. He leaned his head out the window and called, "What the hell are you doing, man? Get outta the road!"

Kyouya opened his mouth to respond aggressively, but the feel of a small hand in his drew him up short; he spun, bewildered, and saw the young girl at his side smiling softly up at him. Without speaking, she led him to the sidewalk.

The electricity exploded for a moment and then relaxed into something calm and pleasant, a feeling of contentment that almost made Kyouya forget about the troublesome truck driver. Almost.

Kyouya had, of course, already made note of his license plate number.

For the time being, he just smiled warmly back at Haruhi, and allowed her to continue thinking that she had saved an innocent civilian from the wrath of Ohtori Kyouya.


	13. Marriage: Commitment

"Ano... Kyouya... why are we here?" Haruhi asked, staring around the small sitting room.

"Because Fuyumi thinks we need to be," he answered distantly, his eyes glued to the small screen of his PDA as he pecked away at the miniature keyboard.

"Do we?" Haruhi had to ask. She couldn't help noticing a nearby couple arguing in hushed voices.

"I would think not," Kyouya replied. "And you?"

Haruhi took a hold of his elbow and steered him towards a couple of chairs since he seemed too involved in his work to search for a seat on his own. "I don't think so," she agreed. "But we could probably learn something..."

For the first time since they arrived, Kyouya looked up, a pensive expression in his eyes. "And what do you think we would learn?" he asked, staring at her intently.

Haruhi shrugged. "You know, all that stuff about "making time" and so on... we're both so wrapped up in our work, sometimes we go days without saying anything to each other."

"Does that bother you?" he asked flatly.

"It's as much my fault as it is yours," she reminded him.

"True enough," Kyouya agreed. "Perhaps more-so."

"More-so?" Haruhi demanded. "How is it _more-so_ my fault than yours?"

Kyouya crossed his legs and leaned back in his seat, smirking slightly. "Aren't you the one who refuses to come to my office, or take a vacation, or have lunch with me, or interrupt me when you think I should be preparing for a meeting, or let me-"

"I get it!" Haruhi said in exasperation. "But there's a reason for those things! Work first, right?"

"Hn," he replied, leaning his head against the wall behind him. "There is also a reason _against_ those things."

"And what might that be?"

"Conflicting priorities," he said simply.

"Yours and mine?" she wondered doubtfully.

"Of course," he assured her. "I'm surprised you never noticed, you being as astute as you are. But then, to this day, you have a block towards romantic notions that transcends even the strongest of walls. You are fascinating creature, Ohtori Haruhi."

"_Romantic notions_?" she said, fumbling through the words as though she had no prior knowledge of their existence.

"Yes," Kyouya said, leaning towards her. "Romantic notions. Ideas surrounding love and affection."

She laughed softly. "Are you trying to tell me that _romance,_ of all things, is your top priority?"

"Not romance, Haruhi," he said, sighing. "I am trying to tell you that _you_ are my top priority."

Though it was rare for Haruhi to blush, she did then, just a light flush of her pale cheeks that sent Kyouya's mind into a spiral. Without any thought as to where they were, he moved his face closer to hers, his eyes fixed on the full shape of her lips.

Haruhi, realizing just in time what he was going to do, held a hand between them. "Not here," she said softly.

Kyouya blinked and nodded his agreement.

"Ohtori-sama?" said a voice from behind them.

Kyouya pulled away from his wife with some reluctance and turned to greet the newcomer. Rising, he extended a hand to the middle-age woman before him. "You must be Mutsu-san," he said politely. "I am Ohtori Kyouya, and this is my wife Haruhi."

"Please, call me Yori," the woman replied, smiling and shaking his hand readily. "I trust you are ready for your appointment?"

Kyouya glanced down at Haruhi curiously; for some reason she was still sitting. "Haruhi?" he said.

When she raised her eyes to his, Kyouya almost fell over in shock. "Haruhi!" he repeated anxiously, and suddenly he was on his knees in front of her, his hands, cupping the sides of her face as he tried to figure out what was wrong. His immediate thought was that she was hurt (why else would she cry?) but he quickly realized this was not the case. He then considered the possibility of thunder, but that seemed unlikely, since the skies had been clear upon their arrival.

"Haruhi!" he whispered. "What's wrong? Are you sick? Do you want to leave?"

"N-no," she sniffled, brushing back the tears. "I just... I never..."

Next thing he knew, she had thrown herself into his arms and was sobbing hysterically into his shirt. To say that he was bewildered would have been an understatement. By reflex, of course, he caught her, but from there, he had no idea what to do. Neither he nor Haruhi were in the habit of public displays of affection, so he did not know what would be considered appropriate for this case.

Fortunately, Haruhi saved him the trouble of deciding by pulling out of his awkward embrace and kneeling on the floor in front of him. "I'm sorry, Kyouya," she said, wiping away her tears with more conviction than before.

Kyouya took a moment to regain his composure (adjust his glasses, straighten his suit jacket) before saying, "Are you going to tell me what that was about, Haruhi?"

She shook her head furiously, and her eyes darted to Mutsu Yori. Kyouya also turned to look at the woman (who was gaping open-mouthed at the pair of them), and glared pointedly. She took the hint and bustled over to her secretary.

Haruhi sighed and looked at the ground. "I'm really sorry, Kyouya," she said again.

"For what, Haruhi? For _crying_? That's the least of my worries. My concern right now is _why_ you were crying."

To his relief, she laughed slightly. "I just... never realized... that I'm the only one who needs to be here."

"Haruhi, a marriage typically implies two people," Kyouya said, rising from the ground, and pulling her up after him.

Haruhi shook her head. "That's exactly it! This marriage has been one-sided."

Kyouya looked at her, an eyebrow raised. "I'm quite certain that that is impossible."

"I haven't been treating it like a marriage," she confessed, eyes on the floor.

"I never expected you to," he replied. "If circumstances were different, and if my father was not who he was, I would not have forced you into it."

"You didn't _force_ me, Kyouya," she said quietly. "I did it to make you happy. Only... I thought you wanted to marry me to make _him_ happy. You... you actually _wanted_ to get married!"

Kyouya could tell he was missing something. "Yes, we've established that," he said, scrutinizing her.

Haruhi shook her head again, this time vehemently. "I mean, you wanted to marry me not to make your father happy, but because you loved me."

"Of course," he said; her point was still evading him.

Haruhi swallowed. "I thought you were being forced into it, too," she said. "That's why... that's why I... I didn't want to get too comfortable... so if anything went wrong... I would still be able to... move on..." The tears had begun to leak from her eyes once again.

Kyouya placed his hands on either side of her face firmly, glaring down at her. "You thought I intended to _leave_ you?!" he demanded.

Her lips trembled as she admitted, "I... I was afraid you might..."

Kyouya pulled her into a passionate embrace, not caring who saw, or what Haruhi thought of it. "I've told you I love you," he murmured into her hair. "For what reason would I ever wish to leave you, even if I _had_ been forced into this marriage?"

"Things happen," she said softly. "People change."

"Not about this, Haruhi," he insisted.

"I realized that just now... that by being so distant, I haven't been 'giving you space;' I've been hurting you, haven't I?"

Kyouya tensed as he replied, "It was expected. As I have told you on numerous occasions, you have terrible perception when it comes to relationships."

She pulled away from him and smiled. "I want to fix that," she said. "Do you want to go somewhere?"

"Somewhere?" he repeated skeptically.

"Yes," she said. "Like the beach. Or maybe just for ice cream."

"Why?"

"Because I love you," she said bluntly. "And I'm tired of pretending I don't."

Even as he was processing the information, Kyouya turned and approached Mutsu Yori. "I'm afraid your services are no longer needed," he said, his mind still glued to the girl behind him, "But I assure you that you will be more than compensated for your time lost."

He did not wait for her reply; he swiftly moved for his wife and grabbed her hand, dragging her from the room as quickly as he dared. She followed along with a content smile, squeezing his hand a little tighter than was necessary.

xXx

"I told you," Fuyumi said, looming triumphantly over Kyouya and Haruhi.

They both jumped, having neither heard her enter the room or approach. Kyouya quickly extracted himself from the tangled mess of limbs that he had been so tightly engaged in moments before, glaring dangerously.

"Is knocking a foreign concept to you?" Kyouya wondered in annoyance.

Haruhi sat up and whispered something in his ear, causing him to visibly relax, a self-satisfied smirk appearing on his face. His young wife rose and left the room, but not without a backward glance at her husband.

Kyouya, who seemed to be struggling to keep his thoughts on his sister and not on the possibilities of his wife saying "I'll be waiting in the bedroom", took a deep breath and said, "Was there something you needed, Fuyumi?"

She smiled brilliantly. "I was right, wasn't I?"

Kyouya forced himself to concentrate on her words. "Right about what?" he managed to ask.

"Marriage counseling was just what you two needed," Fuyumi said.

Kyouya let out a low laugh. "Perhaps," he agreed. "It certainly did what I have failed to do for three years."

"And what was that?" she asked, still grinning with satisfaction.

Kyouya shrugged. "Nothing that is any of your concern. Please knock next time."

And with that, he rose from the couch and headed in the direction his wife had gone.


	14. Date: Intimidation

"Urogataya-Sensei," Haruhi said, glancing a final time at her notes. "Is the answer 63 square meters?"

"That is correct, Miss, uh-"

"Fujioka," she said. "Fujioka Haruhi."

"Well, Fujioka-san, it is a pleasure to have you in this class. It is not often that students successfully take the third integral of a polynomial fraction on the first day of school. Are you a junior?"

"Freshman, sir."

"Well," the professor beamed. "That is _most_ impressive."

Haruhi settled back into her seat, feeling very accomplished. She would need teachers on her side when she eventually applied to law school, and this professor seemed like a good place to start. She hastily jotted down the new notes he was writing on the overused chalk-board, but the sound of an opening door distracted her.

She glanced up, and moments later her jaw dropped with horror.

"Ah, Kyou-san!" Urogataya called cheerfully. "Class, this is the teacher's aid, Ohtori Kyouya. Only a sophomore, but so intelligent! I've yet to throw a problem at him he couldn't solve. Kyouya, we were just discussing the most important question: why do we study multivariable calculus?"

"Multivariable calculus can be applied to analyze deterministic systems that have multiple degrees of freedom. Functions with independent variables corresponding to each of the degrees of freedom are often used to model these systems, and multivariable calculus provides tools for characterizing the system dynamics.

Multivariable calculus is used in many fields of natural and social science and engineering to model and study high-dimensional systems that exhibit deterministic behavior. Non-deterministic, or stochastic systems can be studied using a different kind of mathematics, such as stochastic calculus."

The professor blinked. "Er, yes, Kyou-san, that would be true... erm, could anyone give us another definition? Fujioka-san, perhaps?"

Haruhi, trying to ignore the feel of steely eyes, cleared her throat and said, "Multivariable calculus is simply differential and integral calculus extended to several variables instead of one. So... really it's just real-world application of calculus, and allows us to analyze more complex things than graphs and curves."

"Well, put, Fujioka-san," Urogataya stated, smiling at her answer. "Thank you, and thank _you_, Kyou-san. You must forgive us if we cannot all pick up on things as quickly and as easily as you can."

Kyouya smiled and straightened his glasses. "Not at all, Urogataya-Sensei."

When the class end some forty minutes later, Haruhi made a mad dash for her next class, praying that she would not be followed.

Once there, she selected a seat in the second row, and prepared for class. Once again, as the session began, she successfully answered a question and gained the teacher's favor. However, much to her distaste, once again she found herself being introduced to an all-too-familiar teacher's aid.

"What are you doing?" she asked when the class ended and he took his place at her side.

"What do you mean, Haruhi?" he asked politely. "By taking on these teacher's-aid positions, I am able to advance in my education and receive recommendations to exclusive programs. When I apply for Law School-"

"Law school?!" Haruhi demanded. "Are you out of your mind?"

"I should hope not."

"Why are you applying for law school? I thought you wanted to be a doctor!"

"I do. Law school should only take a few extra years and-"

"A _few extra years_?" Haruhi repeated. "You know what, I don't want to talk about this right now. I'm going to go get some lunch, start on my homework, and _you're_ not going to follow me."

Smirking, Kyouya watched her round the corner, then whipped out his cell phone and dialed a number.

"Moshi-moshi," the voice at the other end said.

"Urogataya-san," he said smoothly, "this is Ohtori Kyouya. I was merely calling to thank you for helping me with my little joke."

"Not at all!" Urogataya said. "Though the request was surprising, you always _were_ my most gifted student, Kyou-san! Though I have to wonder... Fujioka seems like a very bright, pleasant girl. Was it really worth all the trouble you went to?"

Kyouya, staring down the hall at the place where his girlfriend had disappeared around the corner, grinned and said, "It was most definitely worth it."


	15. Honeymoon

"Kyouya, why do people have honeymoons?" Haruhi asked, falling back into the sand and throwing her arm across her eyes to shield them from the sun.

Kyouya set down his book and turned to look at her. "You're not having fun?"

"Well, I'm enjoying the time with you," she murmured, "But we don't have to go on vacation for that! I feel unproductive."

"That's the idea, Haruhi," he replied. "Physical pleasures abound; fine sights, rest, nights alone on a private beach..."

Haruhi sighed. "You can do all that at home."

"_Solitude_ is the key," he said. "Young couples can rarely stay dressed for long."

"And in a mansion like yours you think it would be difficult to find a place to do all that?"

Kyouya smiled and stretched out beside her. "Just four more days," he said, tucking his hands beneath his head. "You'll pull through."

Haruhi rolled onto her side, frowning. "Kyouya, so far the only thing I've done on this trip that I enjoyed was make love. I'm going to go insane before four days have passed."

"Haruhi, just relax," Kyouya said. "Close your eyes. Listen to the waves. It's quite pleasant."

Haruhi fell back against the sand. For a few minutes she said nothing. Salty sea air washed over them, gulls soared over head. The sun fell across their bodies, warming them as the steady ebb and pull of the water sent gentle tremors across the beach. All was calm and tranquil, as soft and peaceful as a dream. And then...

"Kyouya, wouldn't it be easier to just have sex for four days?"


	16. Date: Motivation

"Blue."

"Really?" Haruhi teased. "Not black, or some other depressing color?"

"Is that so surprising?" Kyouya wondered. "Though I find it rather intriguing that you would waste a question on something as trivial as my favorite color."

"It's not trivial," Haruhi insisted. "Your favorite color says a lot about you."

He smirked. "And what does my favorite color say about me?"

Haruhi leaned across the table, folding her hands beneath her chin. "Well, I've heard that people who love the color blue are controlled, and have a strong sense of duty. They are intelligent and, according to what I've read, deeply caring and compassionate people."

He chuckled. "Sounds nothing like me."

She shrugged. "You're referring to 'caring and compassionate', aren't you?"

"Of course," he replied, still smiling.

She sighed and said, "You're not as evil as you want everyone to think."

"You sound so certain," he observed.

"I am," she agreed. "Kyouya-senpai... is really a very kind person, underneath all the walls."

"If you say so," he allowed, his lips twitching dismissively.

Haruhi huffed and leaned back in her chair. "On a side note, your favorite color also says a lot about your sex life... if I remember correctly, people with the favorite color blue look at lovemaking as a fine art, and therefore make very good lovers. I think the article said "men who love blue are like professional pianists, playing their partner like they would play a piano" or something like that."

She tilted her head towards Kyouya, and smiled at the expression on his face: a fascinating mixture of shock, lust and curiosity. "But I suppose none of it really matters," Haruhi finished. "You're probably a really dull lover."

"Would you care to find out?" he inquired, leaning towards her.

She laughed quietly. "Why would I want to sleep with someone who's horrible at sex?"

"Who said I was horrible at sex?"

"You did. You said 'blue' is nothing like you."

"That was before you mentioned the part about the sex."

"So you admit that you're exactly like a blue lover!" she said swiftly.

His eyes narrowed. "Why does that interest you?" he wondered. "Didn't you tell me you were waiting until marriage to sleep with a man?"

"I am," she said. "I'm just teasing you. Honestly, it wouldn't really affect me even if you were into bondage and that sort of stuff."

Kyouya couldn't help it. Just the mention of the word 'bondage' from her mouth brought a horrible mental image of her tied to a bed (his bed, upon closer examination) to mind. God, why did she always have to be so blunt?

Fighting back his sudden arousing mental images, he tried to casually say, "If you don't mind my asking, Haruhi: what is _your_ favorite color?"

She thought for a moment. "I guess if I had to choose... I would pick... red."

"And what does red say about you?" he asked.

She laughed. "Honestly, I don't remember. For some reason, blue stuck with me, and I remember brown, but I forgot all the other colors."

Kyouya frowned. "Should we head out now?"

Haruhi nodded and followed him out the door.

A few hours later, Kyouya was found sitting in the dark, scrolling through an on-line article entitled 'Colors and Sexuality'.

A week later, he proposed to Haruhi.

xXx

Where I got the idea:

/quiz/colours.html

Blue:

Lovers of blue are wonderful sex partners. They are affectionate and sensitive to their partner's needs. They consider love making a fine art and their approach is elegant. Men who love blue are like concert pianists, delicately ravaging their partner like they would play a baby grand. Women in the blue category enjoy sex to the fullest. They are exciting partners but their passion may be compared to a tidal wave rather than firery aggression. Both women and men enjoy foreplay and the aftermath of lovemaking, as much as the sex act itself. In marriage a blue person is a wonderful mate -- never seeking outside interests.

Red:

People who like red tend to be tigers in the sack. They are easily aroused and enjoy sex in every way imaginable. Once the sexual spark is ignited, it may take hours to extinguish. When two reds get together, the ensuing erotica could make Lady Chatterly blush. Lovers of red tend to be aggressors and weaker colors should be aware.


	17. Marriage: Eye of the Beholder

Straight as a razor, and soft as as curtain of silk. He ran his hands through again and again, marveling at the texture. It slid between his fingers like water, ghosting across his skin, dark and full of life. The sheen was hypnotizing, the even lengths astounding. How had he ever focused when such a startling element had been so close, tantalizing and flawless? The scent was intoxicating, like grass and leaves, so refreshing. His eyelids began to drift comfortably shut as his fingers continued their steady progress, down and up, dipping deeper and deeper into the ever changing tresses.

"It's getting too long."

"Hmm?" Kyouya said, snapping out of his trance.

"My hair," Haruhi repeated. "It's getting too long. I think I should cut it again."

"No!" he said much too quickly.

Haruhi fixed him with a calculating stare. "Why not?"

Kyouya shrugged indifferently as he stated, "I like it this length."


	18. Songs of the Heart

Couldn't resist when I saw this challenge... six little, probably poorly written drabbles. Enjoy!

**Rules:**

1. Put your Winamp/i-Tunes/Windows Media Player on shuffle.

2. Click next for the first challenge.

3. Write a drabble of a pairing that suits the song title.

4. You can only write the drabble until the song ends. When the song stops and changes to next song, you must stop writing and write another drabble that suits the new song.

5. Do this for 6 songs, and good luck.

1) Photograph - Nickleback

Haruhi laughed and slid the picture across the table. "Do you remember that, Kyouya? You look so angry!"

Kyouya twitched slightly. "If I recall correctly, they glued my laptop to the ceiling. Of course I was unhappy."

"Those morons," she chuckled. "It was fun though. The Host Club, I mean..."

"You used to hate it," Kyouya pointed out.

Haruhi shrugged. "That was before I knew you all. It's funny, but I was probably the most prejudice of everyone. I thought just because you were rich... well, it's in the past now."

"It isn't gone, Haruhi," Kyouya stated. "We're all still here."

"True," she agreed. "You're all here. You most of all."

"Yes," he agreed, and leaned across the table, pressing his lips to hers. The photograph drifted to the floor...

2) Sanctuary – Utada Hikaru

Everything came to a halt in that one moment as his arm curled about her, his face buried deep in her hair. The thunder faded into a dull roar, the lightning was suddenly overwhelmed by something brighter and far more startling.

Haruhi swallowed hard, her eyes drifting towards the man beside her, his eyes closed, his breathing slow. The heat passing between them was almost unbearable. What was the word for such a feeling? The way the world glowed, the way her mind burst with snowy wings and lazy waves? Where was the fear? The ache?

Gone. Everything was gone. Everything but him. The storm was nothing to this. Nothing could touch her. Not in the arms... of her sanctuary.

3) 4ever – The Veronicas

Haruhi grabbed ahold of his hand and dragged him through the crowded street. Kyouya sighed and followed miserably. Honestly, he didn't see what the appeal of this festival was. It was so loud and noisy, and smelt of burnt food.

"Kyouya, look!" Haruhi said, pointing to a large stand. In an instant, she had vanished, and returned moments later carrying a plate of fried dough balls. "Try one!" she said cheerfully.

For her sake, he restrained his vomit.

"Why do you like this food?" he asked. "It's terrible for you."

She smiled. "Well, no one lives forever, right?" she asked.

He thought about that for a moment. "True," he agreed, and took her hand in his, leading her deeper into the night.

4) Headlock – Imogen Heap

"And _that_ is your excuse for not wanting to date?" Kyouya asked, the corners of his mouth twitching upward.

Haruhi frowned at his amusement. "Yes," she replied indignantly.

Kyouya sighed. "To avoid complications? Haruhi, complications arise from everything. Just because you refuse a boy does not make him any less interested."

"But, Senpai, sometimes I just don't know," Haruhi admitted. "I feel... pressured in so many directions."

"Then I'll just apply the pressure in the proper place," he replied. "In my direction. If your heart is to be caught in a headlock, I plan to emerge the victor."

"I was afraid you'd say that," she sighed.

5) One Girl Revolution - Superchick

Kyouya stared after her, his insides in shock.

Everything about her was so perfectly... ordinary. Brown hair, five foot two... not stunning, though by no means unattractive. Busy, disinterested. Focused on school. Not remarkable in any way. Just there. Honest, and ordinary. Like wallpaper.

So, he had to ask himself, how had someone so ordinary reduced Japan's most eligible bachelors to jelly in mere months?

6) Typical – Mute Math

There was no shame in dreaming, right? Sure it was unrealistic, but everything seemed unrealistic, given that she was a nobody, from an unrecognizable family.

And yet, she had attended Ouran, achieved the much sought after scholarship position. She had graduated top of her class. She had been accepted to a prestigious law school and now she was one of Japan's most desired lawyers.

Nonetheless, in all honesty, those accomplishments fell short in light of this one; the thing she had done that no other could.

She was marrying Ohtori Kyouya.

That was _anything_ but typical.


	19. Marriage: Heirs

I was looking back through some of my older stuff, and I happened across my "Merits of Marriage" folder and thought, 'perhaps I should start that up again. I know it may not be up to my usual par, but please enjoy, and hopefully I'll have more out soon!

"No."

Kyouya raised an eyebrow. "And why not?" he asked.

Haruhi, sitting on the edge of their bed, folded her arms crossly. "You _know _why not," she said stubbornly. "I don't have time right now... we agreed that we would wait until we were _both_ ready."

"And when will that be? When you're too old to carry a child?"

"Don't be ridiculous," she scoffed. "I'm only twenty three."

"Youth is fleeting Haruhi. My father is getting impatient. He wonders why all my brothers have produced heirs, and yet I have nothing to show for this marriage."

Haruhi replied, "Tell him we're waiting."

"I have. He asks 'for what?' What am I supposed to tell him, Haruhi? Because I have no answer to the question either!"

Haruhi, blinked, realizing that Kyouya was angry. He was generally a very collected person (save first thing in the morning), so this sudden outburst alarmed her.

"Kyouya..." she said softly, rising from the bed.

He regarded her warily. "Why does a child threaten you so much?" he asked. "You will continue to work through the pregnancy and then you will give birth, take perhaps a month off, and then go back to work."

"And what of the child?"

"That's what a nanny is for."

"I'm not raising our baby that way!" she snapped. "Children deserve to know their parents!"

Kyouya sighed. "Haruhi, I am trying to find a solution to this, but you have two goals that you refuse to combine! You want to be a lawyer, and you want to be a mother. And you don't want to be both."

Haruhi looked down, her hair falling into her face.

Kyouya could tell he had upset her. With another sigh, he took her into his arms and said, "We'll wait."

It was as much of an apology as Haruhi could ever expect from him. Swallowing, she said, "Twenty-five."

"Twenty five?" he repeated, looking down at her.

"Yes," she confirmed. "We can have a baby when I turn twenty-five. That should be young enough for your father, right?"

Kyouya could barely believe what she was saying. "Haruhi, are you certain?" he asked, tensing.

She nodded. "Positive."

"Very well, but I'll hold you to this," he said, lowering his face to hers.

"I have no doubt," she replied, placing her arms around his neck.


	20. PreDate: The Price of Love

"Haruhi, what's this?" Kyouya asked, staring at the small box on the corner of his desk.

Haruhi, who was already half way to the door, five more tiny boxes in her arms, turned and said, "Chocolate of course. I thought you had a head for dates."

"Dates, yes. Chocolate, no. I don't like sweet thinks."

Haruhi sighed in exasperation. "Kyouya-sempai, I came in early just so I could give it to you without anyone seeing me. The least you could do is say thank you."

"Thank you," he said curtly.

Haruhi frowned. "I made it myself you know."

"Interesting," Kyouya admonished, looking back to his laptop screen.

Haruhi's frown grew. Stacking her five other boxes on the nearest desk, she stormed back across the classroom, and attempted to snatch the box away.

Kyouya reacted very suddenly, entrapping it with his long thin fingers and challenging her with a glint from behind his glasses.

"If you don't want it, I'll take it back," she said, holding out her hand expectantly.

"Who said I didn't want it?"

Haruhi gaped at him. "You said you hate sweets," she said, hands on her hips.

"I do," he agreed. "But it's the thought that counts afterall."

Her cheeks colored ever so slightly as she stared down at him in surprise. "Er... yeah." she agreed lamely.

"I'll hold onto this," Kyouya assured her, tucking the box into his uniform pocket.

"Ano... arigatou, Kyouya-sempai," she said, suddenly smiling in that way that was absolutely unique to her.

She turned, and hurried from the classroom, gathering her boxes along the way.

Kyouya meanwhile, was busy pecking away at his computer, his eyes glued to the Host Club Web Page, where a box of "Haruhi-made Valentine's Day Chocolates" was now being auctioned for a starting price of 20,000 yen.


End file.
